


Vigilante Mischief

by Nooodlen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Just giving more information and description of what is going on, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) is mute, Loki (Marvel)-centric, More tags to be added, No Frigga or Thor required, Odin's A+ Parenting, Plot points are the same, Probably some wump, Semi OP Loki, This is Loki learning to love himself as himself, This is a rewrite of the other Vigilante Mischief, This is not a story of forgiveness for Loki's family, Vigilante Loki, dyslexic writer, mute!Loki, no romance planned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:49:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22399636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nooodlen/pseuds/Nooodlen
Summary: Loki discovers his heritage a hundred years before the Thor movie. After discovering this, instead of confronting his "family" he simply decides to disappear. For two years Loki remains hidden from Asgard's gave, traveling the stars and coming to accept himself for what he is. Even then, he craves acceptance and travels to Midgard seeking it. Midgardians are a strange folk, perhaps they would treat him with the respect his family never did.[REWRITE]
Relationships: Loki & Nightcrawler
Comments: 60
Kudos: 276





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am rewriting this because I disliked the pace I was setting with my last story. Once this is caught up, I will delete the previous version. I apologize for doing this but I feel like I am barreling towards the end of a railroad track with no brakes with that pace.
> 
> Thus this one will be written with more care. I hope this is more enjoyable and this story will be following the last point for point so do not worry about losing out on your favorite plot point.
> 
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Words in ' ' are written.  
> Words in " " are spoken.  
> Words in "[ ]" are signed.

Loki knew he had made a rather large blunder with his latest prank. Odin was so very close to the end of his ropes. Thor had been causing so much trouble lately that Odin was just about on his last nerve and Loki had known better than to play his games while Odin was like this. During times like these, Thor got off without so much as a hair out of place while Odin looked for any excuse to lash out. Usually it was Loki though sometimes it was diplomats from less than co-operative words under their protection. This time it was Loki and he felt rather much like he had brought it upon himself.

Normally, turning a favored general's horse pink would not be such a cause for concern nor was shortening the horns upon that general's helm. No, he knew that Odin was simply looking for a scapegoat and Loki was it, as he so often was. The prince found himself grabbed by his father's personal guard and chained up like some common criminal. Loki knew better than to run so he allowed himself to be bundled off to the throne room, doing his best to hold his head high as those around him whispered and jeered at his expense. Regardless, he watched their faces and memorized them. Mischief would find its way to their doorstep before long. 

Once he was dumped into the throne room, he looked up into the faces of the man he called Father and the woman he called Mother. Some part of him was uncertain of such titles. Same went for his brother who looked at him with those innocent blue eyes, so very disappointed in him. Though that had once stung him and made him shrink, now he was uncertain if the man even considered him brother. Loki felt like an underling to the one who was meant to be his equal. A shadow before the thunder's great light. For all Thor called him brother, he sure as Hel did not treat him as such. Over the centuries, he had last his childish wonder and saw naught but a man blinded by his own brilliance.

"You have defied me once more, Loki," Odin boomed, looking for all the world the wise king but all Loki saw was a tired old man. "Was your last punishment not enough to dissuade you from such actions?" 

Internally Loki winced, he remembered that long decade in that cell. Though he had his visitors, usually it was either his brother there to talk about himself or his mother fretting without lifting so much as a finger. Powerful sorceress indeed. Instead of letting his feelings show, he kept the confident tilt of his head and the slight smirk. "I apologize, All Father. I could not help myself. He had insulted you behind your back and said words most unkind of Thor. I could not allow such a deed to go un-," Loki soothed before getting cut off by Odin's booming voice.

"Lies. You talk naught but lies, Loki. Your words drip with poison that you spit into the ears of all that hear you. Enough of your lies!" Odin declared, thumping his mighty weapon upon the punished stone hard enough for the floor to rattle and the pillars to thrum with its power. Once more, Loki was forced to hide a flinch. This was not the first time he had been called a liar but those he called kin but it was the first time he had worried so much about these accusations. Opening his mouth to defend himself, he was swiftly cut off by Odin. "No. No more. No more shall you spin your webs of lies nor will you prey upon the minds of innocence. From this day forth, you shall never speak again," Odin thundered then slammed his weapon down once more.   
  


Loki's eyes widened with fear and his magic flared to defend him but he was no match for the might of Asgard's power bearing down upon him. When he went to cry out, no sound escaped and by the end of it Loki found himself wavering and crumbling to his knees before his family. All he could do is sit there in shock. Then there was a painful sensation around his lips, reaching up desperately, he found threads binding his mouth shut. Loki was shaken. Though it took Asgardians decades to die from lack of food, Loki required much food due to his magic. What would take decades for most would be mere years for Loki.

"Until you have shown you have learned your lesson, those threads will remain," Odin decreed then clearly dismissed Loki, not even having the cuffs removed from Loki's wrists. 

Gaze swinging to his mother, he saw that she seemed concerned yet she did nothing. Nothing to stop the madness before her. She had the power to end this, to stand up to her husband but all he saw was a woman who did not care. Oh she acted the part of motherhood and said all the right things but never did she ever do her duty as a mother. Next he looked at Thor but saw naught but blind acceptance. Thor would not save him from Odin's actions. Not even a peep in his defense. In that moment Loki wondered why he even looked. Thor always saw Odin's words as nothing but truth.

Fumbling to his feet, Loki swayed then hurried away to hide. Hide from the heartless world around him. Hide from the jeers and snickers. However much he wanted to cry and scream at the injustice, Odin had taken that from him. Odin had stolen such a core part of him and trampled everything else. It made Loki wonder, was he even the man's son.

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As predicted, those around him took every chance they could to poke and prod the prince. They dogged his steps in the library, they harassed him upon the training grounds and they joked at his expense during the family dinners. Normally he would not even be at the dinners but Odin demanded he be there though he could not eat and he feared what punishment he would be met with should he refuse. Nothing was more frightening to Loki than being locked away again, unable to escape those who wished him harm. 

Sometimes he thought he saw remorse in Odin's eyes, others he saw his mother reach for him then give up. At times, Thor would approach him to say something but then would instead invite him on an adventure. Those flashes of guilt use to be enough for Loki to forgive. Once, they were enough to keep him dancing to their tune. Now though, now Loki was numb to it. Regrets were well and good but unless they acted on them, they were worth as much as the mud upon a pig's hoof. Instead, Loki spent every waking second avoiding others. 

This led him to hiding in the palace's vault. Nothing but guards were about and the vault was so big he could easily avoid them. The silence and solitude were their own sort of torture though. However much he liked to be alone at times, it did not mean that he did not wish for company. Instead, he found himself choosing between open disdain and complete isolation. Isolation was preferable. There was less danger to himself. Yet, he wished he simply had another to sit beside him. 

In an effort to distract himself, he studied the artifacts of the vault and wrote down his findings upon parchment upon parchment. This led him to simply study anything that met his interest and the Casket of Ancient Winter most certainly held his interest. Of course he did his best to curb the worst of his curiosity but... who was he trying to fool? Curiosity was his vice. Thus, upon one particularly bad day, Loki touched the Casket. To this day, Loki could not tell you his thought process. Perhaps he simply wished to see what happened. Maybe he wondered that if he lost a hand or the Casket killed him, someone might care. Regardless, this moment changed his future.

Upon touching the Casket, his hand turned a deep blue and it spread across his body. At first bone chilling horror spread through him. Then, a realization dawned upon him. This explained all that had happened to him. It explained the mistreatment and his difference to those around him. He was no Asgardian. Loki was a Jotunn. Though his realization came with the revulsion he had been taught by his seniors, he also felt an odd sense of liberation. Those he called family were never family. There was nothing keeping him here. With that, he grabbed the casket and stored it away before leaping upon the branches of Yggdrasil. 

No one searched for Loki for a month and when they did, there was not a trace of him in Asgard. Loki was gone and no one knew when he would come back.


	2. Many Long Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki goes through much in his time away from the nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words in ' ' are written.  
> Words in " " are spoken.  
> Words in "[ ]" are signed.

Loki walked among the branches of Yggdrasil until he left the main nine, leaping to smaller and smaller branches until he found a planet he could land upon. Heimdall may be able to see all of Yggdrasil but there were many branches and he was certain with his magic, he could avoid being found. To help with this endeavor, he settled himself in a deserted place upon the planet though the world had people all its own. For now, he simply wished to be alone. There was much for him to work through and he knew he could not if he involved himself with others. He needed to come to his own conclusions without interference.

Upon landing on this new world, he found that it was cold due to the cold star it orbited. Some part of him felt very much like he had come home. Loki did not take long to borrow into the frozen ground and hide himself in a cave of his own creation. It was a struggle to craft his shelter and he quickly realize that magic was slow to respond here. Not only that but it actively struggled in his grasp. Later he would think back on this and find that the only reason his enchantments even functions was due to sheer determination and stubbornness.

Though he was determined, he ended up spending a significant amount of time in conflict with himself. The ideals he himself held were at war with those hammered into him for a hundreds upon hundreds of years. One did not simply overcome these beliefs overnight. Even so, Loki was determined and damn if he would not sort this out. Not only was it throwing his magic off balance due to his magic being so very attuned to his emotions but it was making it hard to focus on keeping his spells up. Not only that but this small branch of Yggdrasil was rather low on magic and the magic that did exist was stubborn and wild. Too bad that Loki was twice as stubborn if not just as wild. Loki was a master at his craft and he would not allow himself to make amateur mistake.

As time passed, he lost track of its course but Loki was not very worried. After all, his kin lived just as long as the Aesir if not much, much longer. Loki would take as much time as was required of him to get his wayward magic and conflicting emotions under control. First, he started by switching between his Aesir form and Jotunn. At first, it was hard. The disgust and revolution he felt each time he saw his blue, blue skin had been quite a struggle to tamp down. Not only that but he found his magic worked differently than he was use to yet was so very similar. It made Loki wonder if all Jotunn experienced seiðr the same way.

Loki found that as he forced himself to work under these conditions that the more he did so, the easier things became. Sometimes he would look down and realize he had forgotten to turn back into his Aesir form. Other times he would find magic that was a struggle in the weak magic before came as easily as it did upon Asgard. As he realized these changes, he also came to realize that no matter where he was or what he looked like he was Loki. He would always be Loki, god of chaos, magic, stories, mischief and revelry. How could he have forgotten? Perhaps because many only remembered the twisted form of his stories, as a god of lies. What they forgot was that a lie was naught but a story.

Once more he felt freed, as if he shaken off the chains placed upon him. Right then, he needed to feel that feeling once more. To keep it close. That had him reaching up to touch the threads that held his lips. Until then, he had resisted removing them. Loki knew it was alert Odin of his location and with his magic in turmoil, he had not been confident in escape. Though he was hungry beyond belief and had begun to wither somewhat, he had resisted snapping the threads. Until that moment that was. 

Pushing his power into the threads, he felt the moment Odin's eyes turned to him. For once he did not feel the need to coward or to hide behind a mask. Instead, he smiled and allowed his skin to shift into his jotunn blue. Lovely horns sprouted up and curved behind his ears like that of a ram's. Reaching up with claws he had once found monstrous, he froze the magic threads then shattered them like glass. One ebony claw sliced through what remained. Grinning, he showed his sharp, sharp teeth. Though he knew removing the threads would not bring back his voice, this felt like a victory.

Looking towards where he felt his father's gaze, he wiggled his fingers in a sarcastic wave. 'Farewell, All Father. You may search for me for as long as you desire but even if you may find me, you will never have me. Hunt me like a monster but know that I am a monster of your own creation. Worry not, I will never set upon Asgard's soil again. I am _free_.' With that, Loki shrouded himself from view and hopped upon Yggdrasil's branches, king of his own destiny.

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Once Loki reached the Nine once more, he could not help but feel the smallest regret for taunting the All Father. Most of the Nine was swarming with Asgard forces and it made gathering information of his absence much more difficult than he liked. Regardless, he made certain that no soldier that found him would keep him. Thankfully what he required was not hard to locate and it was not long before he was off to travel Yggdrasil's branches. What he found was startling but not too surprising. It seemed he had been missing for about a century.

Not much had changed politics wise in the Nine. Asgard still had all under their heel. The fire giants wished to consume and the frost giants wished for revenge. Elves and Vanir were still close to Asgard while Svartalfheim was still a dead wasteland. Niflheim was filled with those discarded by Asgard and Helheim was intangible. Midgard sat ignored among the nine. Funny how he could be gone for so very long and yet nothing had changed in his absence. While he was sure he was meant to feel rage at how little most cared beyond catching him, he felt relieved more than anything. Knowing he was unimportant meant that there was no burden to carry beyond those he placed upon himself.

Now it was time for Loki to write his own story. Turning to Midgard, he smiled. Funny how Odin searched all but Midgard. Loki would make him reconsider such a slight. He would walk among a realm just as ignored as he was and there he would forge his own path. Loki was god of stories and he would make his own a good one.


	3. Heroic Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki arrives on Midgard, right into the perfect start of many of Asgard's epics. A battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words in ' ' are written.  
> Words in " " are spoken.  
> Words in "[ ]" are signed.

Boots touching down upon paved ground, he stood tall. He had cloaked himself in a glamour that obscured is features, uncertain of where he had landed and wary of Asgard's forces laying in wait for him. A little caution never hurt anyone. In fact, it generally kept a blade from being shoved directly between one's ribs. 

Looking around, he was slightly startled to see the amount of advancement that this realm has achieved. Shimmering towers of glass and metal towered above him while smaller buildings sported wares that were once far beyond the capabilities of these mortals. While he turned to examine one of their vehicles, he was forced to dodge as one came flying at him as if thrown. Thankfully, he had not lost his instincts honed through centuries of battle and gracefully dodged out of the way of the heavy construct. 

Turning his gaze towards the attacker, he found a unnaturally large man with grotesque bulging muscles. From what he remembered, no Midgardian was meant to be that big nor sport muscles so very thick that it almost seemed difficult for the man to move. How he managed to bend down and lift the vehicle tossed at him was beyond him. Glancing around, he noticed that there were uniformed mortals all around him. Their weapons were as much pointed at him as they were pointed at the brute. Well, he did not particularly blame them. After all, he had suddenly appeared upon a battlefield with no promptly.

Attention returning to the brute, he made a split second decision. This seemed the perfect start to his story. Not only that but it felt a bit like returning to old times. While Thor and his warrior idiots went to slay beasts selected and corralled by trained hunters, Loki found he delighted in going to outlaying villages chasing rumors. It was fun, disproving the fears of the villagers and bringing peace to them. Sometimes the rumors were true and he had a fight on his hands just as he did now. Normally there would be a lot more traps and planning but he knew he could go without though it felt less secure. After all, Asgard trained their children from the moment they could hold a weapon.

Within moments he had an imperfect illusion of himself sent towards the brute as he feinted to the side, cloaking himself from view. As the illusion of himself was destroyed in rage, he leaped atop the muscled man's back. Bearing a dagger directly into the joints of each shoulder, he leaped back as the beast of a man flailed in anger. Once he landed with all the grace of a cat, he extended his leg and swept the legs right out from under him. Drawing one of his heavier daggers from his dimensional pocket, he twirled it then slammed it directly into the brute's temple, knocking him unconscious. 

It was honestly a bit disappointing how easily the fight ended though he knew the quicker the fight ended, the safer everyone and himself would be. With flourish, he withdrew his bloodied daggers then paused in consideration. Reaching up, he conjured a bright pink orb. Tossing is carefully in one hand as he stepped away to leave, he threw it over his shoulder and teleported away as it went off. It was one of his favorites, a dye bomb. It died everything to dust touched pink and was horribly inconvenient to remove. Pink was his favorite to use do to how humiliating male Aesir found the color due to its feminine qualities.

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After he got a meal, which he very much enjoyed and found twice as enjoyable when he paid in gold, he decided on his next order of business. Now he must find a place of residence. Of course it would no fun to simply buy a normal home. No, he needed somewhere special. Somewhere that felt like home. Now he knew that person he may not find this place in this city but he felt he should at least try. This city felt special, as if the Norns had guided him here. So he would search here first then expand it as needed. Nodding to himself, he was off. 

What happened next was rather accidental yet he could not find it in him not to have a little fun with the chaos he caused. It turns out that the people of Midgard had developed ways of detecting the energy his magic released. As soon as he sent out his first pulse in search of a residence, he found the streets swarming with many. Honestly, it was a sight to behold. A colorful array of equally colorfully dressed people swarmed the areas where he sent his power out in search of a proper place to stay. Some even were capable finding him in spite of his invisibility.

It became a fun challenge to evade these people. Not only that but he found that his presence was good for the city itself. Many a criminal found themselves locked up due to him leading these people directly to their doorsteps. At that point he was only half looking for a place to reside, a good portion of it going into leading these people on merry chases through criminal infested areas and watching as they cleared out the scum like a maid's cleaning spell. Plus, listening to the theories of others were rather fun in its own right. Oh the silly stories they told themselves were quite the delight.

Loki was leading another merry chase when he finally found it. A building laced with unfamiliar spells. Immediately stopping his magic, he veered off course only to teleport soon after. The chase was forgotten as he stepped out in front of the grand building. Oh yes, this was perfect. Though it was hard to bypass the protections on the building, he was fairly certain no one was living there. From the distinct feeling of death, the previous owner must have perished and judging by the spells upon the place, his fellows had yet to replace him.

Well, another man's tragedy was another man's fortune. With this in mind, he slowly but surely extended his magic to encompass the building. Oh dear, the spell work was rather clumsy. Impressive was a species with such a short lifespan but flawed. Very slowly, he teased open those holes in the defenses and replaced them with his own power. As he worked, he found that some parts of the defenses were much more powerful and strong than others. It seemed that they were not completely incompetent, merely had too spotty a knowledge to make it work as intended.

Regardless, he found that if he was to take his final step, he needed to trigger the alarms. Thus, he strengthened the enchantment in his own favor then tugged the final knot of magic free. Immediately he felt the attention of dozens of mages. Working quickly, he slammed every protection he knew into place. This included magic against teleportation. This severely damaged some of the enchantments that obviously led elsewhere but those could be repaired in time and when he had the inclination. For now, this place was his and his alone.

Stepping into the building, he settled in a rather lovely cushioned chair. Closing his eyes, he felt the original owners of the spells bombard his defenses which he strengthened as best he could. Firing back spells, he smiled as quite a few hit their target. None of them would do lasting harm but they sure would keep him safe. When about half of the sorcerers were down by his tricks, he felt a feeling of great satisfaction. 

Sinking down in his seat, exhaustion tugged at him. It seemed that had taken far more out of him than he thought. Was this chair always this comfortable? After a few blurry moments of half consciousness, he slipped into slumber. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally caught up to the start of the original Vigilante Mischief  
> I am going to update this story every Thursday :3
> 
> Also huzzah, Loki steals the New York Sanctum xD  
> This is before Doctor Strange's story even starts on the path of magic.
> 
> (The villain is just a rando. He has no significance to the story)


	4. A Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki makes a mask for himself and goes on his first trip as Mischief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words in ' ' are written.  
> Words in " " are spoken.  
> Words in "[ ]" are signed.

Loki felt much better when he woke up the next morning. After a bit of searching, he found that the kitchen was stocked with food. Some of it had gone bad, he did not even wish to think about opening the cooling device. Instead, he opened some cans of food and with a bit of his own rations, he dropped them into a pot and made himself a lovely stew. Though he was not as big as Thor though as bottomless as Volstagg, he could eat quite a lot. Magic needed fuel just as any good work out required it. Once he finished, he let out a breath and went to settle back in the chair. This was his favorite chair now.

Nestling down, he closed his eyes and tried to decide what to do next for his story while his magic checked his defensed. The sorcerers from before had managed to unravel parts of it while he was asleep but he strengthened the enchantment easily. Honestly, he had expected more to be undone. It seemed something had distracted them from such a mission. While that it was rather disappointing, ultimately it was for the best. better to have somewhere where he would be safe than worrying about constant interference. 

Once he checked it all over, he determined that he wished to be a hero but on his own terms. Not only would this world hail him for his actions but here he had no reputation he needed to worry about. Well, besides the tales of a bunch of drunks. Honestly, he doubted that they would two and two together. At least, not for a long time. Either way, he was just glad for his relative anonymity for it meant that good deeds he did would not be colored by suspicions. Here he could do what he was already doing just without being scrutinized for his silvertongue. Hel, he did not even have that any longer.

With that thought in mind, he determined he would wear a mask. Those he saw before wore masks though the degree of coverage was rather varying. He determined he would use his as both a helm and a disguise. Now, normally he would go for something Asgardian but he felt that he needed change. He needed to be something new. The Loki of old was no more. This was the tale of a new Loki, a Loki who defied the norns and stood upon his two own feet.

So, with that thought in mind he determined his mask would be that of a raven. Though he disliked Odin's ravens, he adored the birds as a whole. They were so very clever and full of mischief. Their playful nature had always appealed to him. All it would take was some metal he had on hand and some fabric and he would have a costume worthy of his disguise.

Reaching out, he grabbed hold of the best metals he had along with leather and a lot of feathers. First, the mask. It would be the most important part of this mask and he would make sure it did its job well. Painstakingly he carved out feathers and inscribed complex runes into the metal. This mask would be a focus for his power when he did not use his daggers. Once he was finished, he was rather pleased with himself. All it took was some finishing touches and once he was finished he had a beautiful mask of silver with emeralds set in the eyes. Inside, he could see as if he was not wearing a mask at all. Best of all, he insured his jotunn horns had space to curve up along his skull beneath the mask. This helm would protect him well. 

Next he moved onto his armor. Starting with an overcoat, he crafted it out of the most durable leather he had then used chain mail to strengthen it on the inside. Stitching enchantments and a feathering pattern into the green coat, he completed it with black feathers lining the neck and hood of the coat. The hood was purely decorative, he would not fit over his mask. Well, he could make it fit but it rather felt like a waste of enchantment space. Once he finished, he made sure all the buckles fit comfortably and could resist the extremely cold temperatures he could reach. 

All that was left was to give him some black and silver, thin, light weight leather and plate armor which allowed flexibility along with protecting his vitals. He finished it all off with black and green boots which he placed many silencing and muffling enchantments onto. Sure, he could not purposefully make noise on his own but he could do it accidentally. 

Securing his armor onto himself, he found himself so very proud of his work. Oh sure it would not as inherently powerful as dwarven armor nor as potentially magical as Alfheim's but it was his and his alone. As far as he could tell, it was a perfect balance of both. Powerful and sturdy without sacrificing much in either department. Turning towards the door, he decided to go test his theory.

* * *

At first he handled petty crime and made sure to give those he rescued a name to call him by by the third time he was asked. He was Mischief. It was fun to take care of things in the most interesting way possible. One mugger found himself glued to the wall with green slime, another found himself stuck waist deep in the cement and yet another found herself locked in a dumpster. Of course he ensured the proper authorities would be alerted to these people so no harm would come to them while helpless. Sure, he felt no sympathy for them but he was not a monster.

As he worked, those people from before him noticed his activities. It seemed they had a way of detecting magic. This time he did not lead them on a merry chase, he simply went about his business while pretending he did not notice he was being watch. It was twice as fun when he got a temporary partner in heroism. After introducing himself, he would move on to another part of the city. Loki was not interested in allowing himself to be used again. Not after he escaped Asgard's tyranny. This was his story and no one else's. He was Mischief and he did not need anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed his symbol from a fox to a raven, felt much more fitting.  
> The mask looks something like -> https://www.artstation.com/artwork/n220O  
> I don't think I can draw the design I came up for him xD  
> Also sorry for the slightly crummy chapter, allergies kicking my ass


	5. Popular

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With great power comes great popularity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words in ' ' are written.  
> Words in " " are spoken.  
> Words in "[ ]" are signed.

The first sign of trouble had been like a slap across the face. It had been a normal night like any other. He was being watched, as he expected and he since gotten use to. After all, what was he to do? If he chased off one another would simply take that one's place. It was easier to allow them to think they were stealthy than to risk them somehow figuring out a way to avoid his notice. So with this in mind, he simply went about his business and made sure to teleport home instead of walking. So far he had avoided being found out without his mask and he wished to keep it that way. This night only strengthened his resolve.

Tonight he was taking care of a drug deal between two large gangs. He had already severely crippled the power of one of them and had been just waiting for them to go limping for help to their fellow criminals. This one was resilient, he could give them that. They had yet to cave and merge with some other bigger powerhouse. They were looking to sell off some of their stock of less than pleasant substances in hopes of regaining more power. Watching them now as they approached a gang he had yet to hit, he smiled. If he played his cards right, he would be able to cripple this other gang the same as the other one and completely erased the already weakened gang in one fight.

Mentally putting his watcher out of his mind, he waited atop a building as the gangs gathered. Patiently waiting for them to finish their posturing and start taking out the merchandise, he fell upon them as swift as a bird and silent as a shadow. The first people he chose as his targets did not even have time to shout as he was upon them. Careful with his blades, he made sure to injure, not cripple nor kill. It seemed Midgard looked down upon such things. Bullets glanced off his thick enchantments and pinged off his avian helmet as he danced his violent dance among them. By the time he was done, only a few had gotten away but he was not very inclined to follow. Instead, he lit the drugs aflame with his carefully controlled green flames. Bending down, he went to grab the money and start sorting through the downed drug dealers when something pricked him. 

Jumping slightly, he blinked as he found a dart carefully embedded in a chink in his armor between his armored coat and his helmet. Pulling it out, he went to examine it when a wave of sleepy dizziness hit him. Swaying, he staggered sideways before managing to catch himself. He felt himself shift into his Jotunn form and some of the drug seemed to ease enough for his mind to clear. Lighting green as his magic tried to fight off the substance, he distractedly noticed men in riot gear come stomping out of the buildings around him. 

Puffing out a silent chuckle, he realized that these were one of the powerful forces of this land. SHIELD. They always seemed the shady sort but he had not thought they would resort to such means to get his attention. Gaze swinging to the man with a bow who had shot him then to a woman who stalked along like a cat who had spotted a vulnerable mouse. Now, he knew it was only polite to let them talk to him about this but another dart was fired which he managed to snatch out of the air with centuries honed reflexes. The next bounced off his armor and another got him in another chink of his armor, hitting him with a new wave of numb, numb sleepiness.

'Pardon me, this is not the way to get my attention. I allowed you lot to follow me long enough, best keep your watchers to yourself, SHIELD' he wrote in the air with wavering magic. Even as his focus faltered, he managed to teleport away. Just in time too as he landed upon his couch as he collapsed. As he sunk into a dreamless slumber, he wondered where they had gotten something so potent and whether the attention was to kill me or catch him.

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When he next went out, he made sure to knock out the one trailing him along with any other watcher. Hubris would be his down fall if he allowed himself to be arrogant to believe himself invulnerable. They had nearly caught him had they up the potency of the drug they were using or got hold of some of his blood. Now he would take no chances, no more darts. Hell, he had even fortified the chinks in his armor further and now wore his Jotunn skin when he left as Mischief. Much further removed from Midgardian biology than his Asgardian form and much better at handling toxins. 

This next meeting was just as unpleasant if more so. He had been freezing an abusive drunk to a wall when he felt something graze the mental walls he had up. Twitching, he instantly teleported in fear of another attack but curiosity did not keep him from going far. This had him landing upon a roof. An old bald man and a young woman with him. Her autumn red hair was tied up neatly and she stood tall and professional behind the old man's wheelchair. The wheelchair gave him pause, such things were not common on Asgard. Injuries terrible enough to cripple rarely had an Asgardian surviving for an injury that grave was usually too extensive and fatal considering the abuse they could survive.

Those distracting thoughts immediately came to a screeching halt when that mental brush became like a hammer smashing through his mental walls. He could _feel_ the old bastard just strolling into his mind like he owned it. Grabbing old of the bastard in his mind, he unceremoniously threw him out back into his mind while sending himself tearing into the old man's mind, pulling things from both their minds without any regard for comfort. Ignoring the pain he caused, he was careful not to cause damage even as he fended off the woman's intrusions as well. Crossing his arms, he let out a silent scoff.

'Arrogance will be both your undoing. A mage's mind is their shield as well as their weapon. You use your's like a hammer instead of a blade and bear no shield. One day, you both will fall before someone who can do both. ' he wrote in the air with an angry, frustrated gesture. The _nerve_ of these Midgardians. Baring his teeth behind his mask angrily, he spitefully froze the old man's wheels to the roof. 'The answer to your question is no, **Charles**. Perhaps return when you have learned manners.'

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At least his next encounter was at least a little fun. He had been using ill gotten money from criminals to buy himself the resources he required. Loki did not mind the criminals that got him what he needed, they were not particularly hurting anyone. It was just the people who usually bought their services that caused all the trouble. Regardless, he had been doing some extensive research upon his new laptop. It was a cute device, but brilliant and primitive in equal measures. Sure, it was useful but there was simply some things one had to do in person.

This had him investigating a warehouse that was meant to be the next meet up between gangs. He was eager to finally crush this scum beneath his heels. The harm they caused was horrific and no matter their background, each had made the choice to hurt instead of finding another way. Hell, he did not mind if they simply stole from those that had too much but they were needlessly cruel. It was not desperation, it was sadism that drove them. He was quite disappointed when he arrived in the warehouse to find no one there.

Silently dropping down into the warehouse, he tilted his head. This place was completely empty, not even a piece of abandoned machinery in sight. Just when he was about to send out a scan for danger, he spotted a glowing blue light. Frowning, he allowed his power to crackle around his fingers. Well, that is until he saw it was simply Tony Stark or Iron man. They were interchangeable really, considering the man was both at heart. Stark was not the sort to pull the sort of thing SHIELD had so his magic eased as he watched the man approach.

"Mischief! How are you doing? Good? Good. Just the guy I was looking for. Did you know you're a hard guy to find? Must be that tech of your's. Hey I was wondering if you wanted to work for me. I pay well and there's benefits. I just want to get a look at that swanky stuff you use to teleport," Iron man rambled though the shorter man kept a safe distance. 

Mischief silently hummed thoughtfully as he approached the man, allowing himself to loom over him as he examined him. He wanted to test the man's spine and he found that he quite liked what he saw. The man did not back down and had, in fact, moved on to rambling about his mask and making references that flew right over his head. Oh yes, he liked Stark. That did not mean he wished to work for him. This man was only interested in his magic, this he knew. At least he was much more honest than the others. Ha! The god of lies appreciating honesty, he could appreciate the irony.

'I am afraid I must disappoint, what I use is not derived from the same power source as your's' he wrote in the air. Then he shifted so they were side by side. With his Jotunn strength, he pulled Stark close even with his heavy armor. It seemed to startle the man but he hid it well. 'I can, however, tell you something I have not told anyone yet.'

Stark, if he was disappointed by the initial refusal, perked up before it could show. "Oh ho?" he asked as he leaned closer as if the mute sorcerer was going to share a whispered secret. Loki could appreciate the dramatics.

Leaning close in return, he pretended to whisper but simply allowed his magic to flow out in a cloud of green that wrote a sentence in front of Stark. 'I am a wizard, Stark.'

Then, shaking with laughter at the offended noise Stark made, he jumped upon Yggdrasil's branches.

**Author's Note:**

> Be free to comment below.  
> Here is my discord channel: https://discord.gg/KkYGMYU  
> I will try to post semi consistently.  
> My motivation is iffy most days so sorry.


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